


Sheaths

by yeaka



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Hyrule Warriors
Genre: Bukkake, Ficlet, M/M, Oral Sex, PWP, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-10
Updated: 2017-03-10
Packaged: 2018-10-02 03:06:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10208078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Ghirahim watches Volga finish with Link.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own The Legend of Zelda or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

Ghirahim had a long list of demands when the princess offered him a deal—he cares nothing for peace or absolution, just _pleasure_ , and the fireplace in his quarters was part of that. It doesn’t effect _him_ , but it makes the sweat build twice as fast along Link’s peach skin, makes him flush a ripe pink, makes him struggle for breath in the stifling heat of it. Ghirahim sits next to him on the tiled castle floor, the fire only an arm’s length away and the bed behind them. Link’s turned towards it, nestled between two open legs.

Volga, another recent recruit, perches on the very edge with his thighs spread wide, his crimson-covered fingers fisted tight in Link’s soft hair. The only hole in his armour aside from his helmet is at his crotch, where his long cock thrusts forward, disappearing in Link’s stretched open mouth. Ghirahim sits close enough to eye every detail, from the slight tremor in Link’s jaw to the bulge at his cheek. It took much practice to get them here, to train their little hero enough to take such a mammoth rod, searing hot and thickly veined. Ghirahim can see the thin tendrils of steam slip past Link’s lips on every thrust, and his face is almost as red as his rear, bared to the fire. Unlike them, Link wears _nothing_ , only sweat and cum.

His face is coated with it. His chin is drenched, white rivers slicked all along his lips and down his throat, the rest of his fair skin splattered in little gobs and strings—a dragon isn’t a lover to take lightly. Link insisted he could handle it. He stubbornly does so now, even though it’s clear he’s drunk enough to choke on, and he gags as much as he moans. Volga doesn’t falter for it. Volga pounds new loads in rapid fire, pouring them right down Link’s tight throat and smearing more white across his pretty lips. His blue eyes are hazy, dilated, heavy-lidded and unfocused, but he still hangs on. His hands clutch weakly to Volga’s boots. Ghirahim would coo and pet him for his efforts, but Link’s hair is a sticky mess, and Ghirahim doesn’t want to stain his gloves. So he just watches his favourite warrior fucked raw and filled up again and again. 

“ _Raah_...” Volga mutters, nonsensical from the start—he seems a second away from transforming. Now _that_ Ghirahim would like to see; Link’s frail shell impaled by a _beast_ ; maybe then, Volga would come enough to drown him in it. The thought makes Ghirahim giddy, and he spirals into idle daydreams of bathing Link in seed, watching one monster after another spray his gorgeous body. He’d say nothing of it, of course, just _take it_ , twist and squirm under the rain of it and let himself be used. There’s something so _satisfying_ about watching _the legendary hero_ be thoroughly debauched. If Ghirahim knew Link was this vulgar in bed—or the table, or the floor, or anywhere his betters might put him—they wouldn’t have fought in the first place. Ghirahim would’ve offered himself up to a more alluring master, and he would’ve named _this_ for a reward.

Volga finally finishes, roaring loud enough to shake the walls and doubling over, his massive cock jamming into Link a final time—Link gags again and tightly shuts his eyes, throat rushing to swallow, but more cum still bubbles out the edges of his mouth and dribbles down his chin, trickling along his chest, coating his pebbled nipples. His back arches as he leans into it, burrows closer, swallows harder, but he can’t keep up. Volga grinds into his throat before wrenching suddenly free, and Link splutters at the loss, darting a hand to his mouth to catch all the cum that bubbles out. His fingers are soaked a second later, and a few drops hit the floor. He shudders, shoulders shaking. Ghirahim would reach to soothe them, but even those are dirty. Volga makes a satiated sigh and slumps forward.

Link’s still coughing. For a moment, Ghirahim just watches, taking immense pleasure in each heave and raspy whimper. Ghirahim has the fleeting thought that he should invite Zant to join the right side—Zelda’s allied forces are _far_ more fun than Cia’s. 

When Link’s finally managed to pull himself together, breathing hard but steady and wiping his ruined mouth, Ghirahim knows it’s time. He gets to his feet and finally unties his slash, reaching into his skin-tight pants to draw out his own cock, fully hard from the show. Link glances sideways at him in surprise, and Ghirahim smirks broadly as he gives himself a few firm strokes—all it takes to splatter Link’s face anew. Link cries out at it and turns away, but it still paints his cheek and shoulder. Volga lets out ruckus laughter from the bed, and Ghirahim joins in with pleased chuckles as he contributes to Link’s covering. He’s barely finished when Volga climbs off the mattress. 

Marching around and kneeling down to the floor, Volga grabs Link’s hips and wrenches them up, then thrusts two fingers into his stretched and leaking hole. Link moans and hangs his head but doesn’t pull away. Ghirahim chides, “You’re an animal.”

“I’m a _beast_ ,” Volga hisses, like there’s any difference. He gives Link’s overused hole a few stabs of his thumbs, then withdraws and positions his cock. Ghirahim glances at the clock above the bed—he’d thought, after this last round, that he’d let their dear soldier sleep.

But then Link gives a weak moan and bucks his hips back into Volga’s grip, and Ghirahim sighs indulgently and settles back in for the encore.


End file.
